


You're Home

by hypnoshatesme



Series: Home [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Asexuality, Fluff, Judge for Yourself, M/M, is it because i suck at writing dialogue or because it's awkward conversations?, just a lot of awkward dialogue rly, no pressure, or don't rly, with some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: Michael's in his last year of university when he meets a handsome goth in a bar, making the whole bar experience quite a bit more bearable. It doesn't stop with that, though.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Series: Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777396
Comments: 36
Kudos: 100





	You're Home

**Author's Note:**

> my brain refused to let me work on anything unless I write something nice(er) for ace Michael and who am I to deny it?

Gerry sat in a dark corner of a rather noisy bar, unwinding from his latest Leitner job. He was people watching, as usual, wondering who of the people dancing and chatting would end up falling prey to Gerry’s world. It wasn’t the most cheerful thought, but Gerry had a difficult time shaking the fears off his mind after burning one of the books. Even when it went well - and this one had - it was difficult to forget. He tended to try to drown the memories in alcohol.

He was spacing out when the tall blond approached his booth. Gerry looked up when he heard an awkward cough, and was impressed at how he had to crane his neck to see the face of whoever was standing in front of him. When he finally managed to catch a glimpse of the round face, he was confused, because the man didn’t look like he wanted to be there. He was twirling a corkscrew curl around his slender finger, clearly struggling to look at Gerry, eyes nervously darting around instead. He was gnawing on his lip and his whole body language screamed of the urge to flee. 

Gerry raised an eyebrow, “What is it?”

The other man jumped, and Gerry half expected him to dart off. He didn’t.

“I...I’m so sorry, my...I...I was looking at you and my friends just wouldn’t shut up u-until I approached.”, Gerry nearly didn’t pick up the whole sentence as the man dissolved into flustered mumbling by the end, blush high in his cheeks and hands fidgeting.

Gerry looked towards the booth the blond had come from, where another four people were all sitting and chatting, deliberately not looking at them. Gerry didn’t like the look of them. He looked back at the blond, who looked like he was holding his breath, looking at his own hands.

“Well, what’re you supposed to do now?”

“I-I’m not sure they...they didn’t specify and I-I...I usually d-don’t…”, he was struggling to speak and Gerry was starting to feel sorry for the guy. 

He motioned for him to sit down and the blond’s eyes went wide with shock and surprise, “Ah...you don’t...you-I can just tell them you told me to get lost. Y-You can just tell me to go!”, he said quickly, smiling nervously. There was a small gap between his front teeth, and Gerry found himself thinking it looked cute. 

He motioned for the man to sit down again, “I’ll buy you a drink so the effort wasn’t for nothing. You look like you need it.”, he added with a somewhat cheeky grin, making the blond blush a deeper red. 

He sat down after a moment of contemplation, with a shy smile, nervously tucking a stray curl behind his ear. It didn’t stay there, and as far as Gerry could tell, it was a lost cause, stray curls falling around his ears and into his forehead where hair had broken free of the hairtie that was keeping the rest of the blond curls at bay in a low ponytail.

“What’s your name?”, Gerry asked after taking a sip from his own drink.

He looked surprised, “Oh, uh...Michael.”, he smiled, “You?”

“Gerry.”, Gerry answered, drowning the rest of his drink, “Tell me what you want to drink.”

Michael looked confused, “You don’t have to, I mean...I came bothering you so really...i-if anything, I should buy you a drink.”

“Great. And I’ll buy yours, let’s go to be bar, then.”, he got up, watching, amused, as Michael blinked a couple times before the words caught up with him and he followed suit.

They were tipsy when they went outside for some air. Michael relaxed as soon as he was away from all the busy noise, and Gerry found himself looking at the relieved expression on his face a little longer than acceptable in a less intoxicated state. Michael noticed his look and gave him a crooked smile, grey eyes cloudy with alcohol, but still warm. 

They had managed fine after the initial awkwardness - and with the help of a couple more drinks - and Gerry felt strangely light. He was having fun, he suddenly realised. He was enjoying the company, liked when Michael gesticulated wildly when he talked, even when his hands became sluggish with drink, liked the sparkle in his eyes every time Gerry motioned for him to continue after Michael gave him a careful, quizzical look, as if to give Gerry an opportunity to tell him to shut up.

But Gerry didn't want him to shut up, which seemed to surprise Michael every time and it was such a nice expression to look at. Gerry's intoxicated brain sometimes forgot to listen to the words coming out of Michael's mouth because he was so busy watching him.

"Do you smoke?", Gerry asked him now, fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket.

Michael shook his head.

"Mind if I smoke here?", Gerry asked instead.

Michael seemed to consider, biting his lip. The motion was somewhat hypnotic.

"If you must…"

Gerry laughed, and it felt strangely foreign and light, "You know, I asked so you could say yes or no, not 'I guess I'll deal with it'"

Michael blushed, "I'm...I'm sorry. Not used to…"

"Saying no?"

Michael shrugged, worrying at his lip. They were chapped and Gerry was fairly sure he'd make them bleed soon if he continued to gnaw on them like that, skin catching in teeth every time. Gerry suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was very much staring at Michael’s lips. He blushed. 

Michael's eyes went wide. If Gerry had already been hard to look away from before, the slight pink dusting his cheeks made it impossible. It made a stunningly beautiful contrast to the lose black strands hanging into his face, and Michael felt an urge to brush them away just so he could take a better look. Their eyes met which did little for either of their blushing faces to calm down. 

It was Gerry who spoke, "Uhm.. mind if I kiss you?" He couldn't quite believe he actually asked that. Michael thought about it for a moment, biting his lip and making Gerry forget his shock at having asked that question.

"Okay.", Michael ended up saying, smiling before bending down to press his lips to Gerry’s. 

Gerry kissed back the moment his brain finally processed what was happening. It was a little sloppy and tasted of drinks neither of them had particularly enjoyed, but they both hummed pleasantly when they pulled apart after a moment.

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Michael's phone vibrated in his pocket. Michael fished it out. He looked disappointed at what he found, "Ah..that's my cue.", he smiled at Gerry apologetically.

Gerry nodded. He should probably go home too. He didn't want to, though, "Uh do you...want to exchange numbers?"

Michael was biting his lip again, "B-Before we do that I should probably tell you I'm...uhm...asexual."

Gerry wasn't sure what exactly he had expected but that wasn't it. He blinked, confused, and then shrugged, "Alright."

Now Michael looked confused, eyebrows drawn together, "Alright?"

"Well...yeah, alright.", Gerry mumbled, pretending to be very interested in the trashcan across the street in the hope of maybe hiding the blush creeping up his face at the realisation that he just asked Michael for his number and Michael hadn’t actually said no.

"O-Oh...okay, I just...I didn't want you to think I...uh...tricked you.", there was surprise in his voice, wonder even, "So you...still want?", he held his phone out to Gerry, blush high in his cheeks because Gerry was even more beautiful to look at up close and he apparently wanted to see Michael again and Michael couldn't quite believe it.

Gerry nodded, a little quickly, taking the phone and punching in his number. Somewhere in his sluggish mind an alarm was going off, telling him this was a mistake. Gerry ignored it, giving Michael the phone back. Michael took it gingerly, staring at the number in awe. Part of him was sure it must be fake but he didn't want to embarrass Gerry, so he forced himself to put his phone away without trying it out.

"Don't you want to call it? J-Just in case I...misclicked, or something.", Gerry asked curiously because his heart was still racing, his mind slow, and he wasn't sure he could trust his muscle memory. And for some reason he really wanted Michael to have it right.

Michael made a small, surprised noise, taking the phone back out and unlocking it before looking at Gerry, as if asking whether he should proceed. Gerry was itching for a cigarette to distract himself from those eyes that were making his skin tingle. He nodded.

Michael knit his eyebrows for a second before clicking and then they were both holding their breaths in rapt attention, waiting. Gerry felt his pocket vibrate and let out a breath of relief as he pulled it out, showing the number to Michael so he could check if it was indeed him or if somebody had just the worst fucking timing to call Gerry’s number. Michael's face lit up and he smiled, nodding eagerly and the stray curls bobbed with the motion.

"Okay uh…", Gerry mumbled, unsure of how to proceed.

Michael hesitated, before leaning down to press a short kiss to Gerry’s cheek, "I'll...I'll text you.", he said shyly, before leaving Gerry with a small wave and going back inside. 

Gerry took a steadying breath, staring at the number on his phone. He finally remembered to save it and then he stared at the name instead. Did that really just happen? Had he really been stupid enough to exchange numbers with the cute blond? Gerry was worrying his lip now, playing with the ring in there as reality sunk in. Even through the slight haze of alcohol Gerry knew this was definitely a mistake. Then why the fuck did his heart jump when his phone vibrated again, Michael's name popping up. Gerry clicked on the message as if it might disappear any moment. 'Enjoy your cigarette :)' it read and Gerry’s found himself grinning at the phone like an idiot before he finally managed to find the lighter in his pocket.

It was difficult to meet up with Gerry, Michael quickly found out. His job seemed to have the most random hours and sometimes he was out of town at short notice. Part of Michael was starting to wonder if Gerry maybe didn't want to see him, which would be fine, but it was always Gerry who left their little coffee dates saying they should try to repeat that. The smile on his lips always looked genuine and he was often the one who ended up texting Michael, suggesting a next time. So Michael had to assume he really just was that busy. 

Gerry dodged the question of the nature of his job when Michael asked, but there were frequent bruises and cuts and Michael struggled not to push the topic. Gerry told him not to worry. As if Michael could do that. Usually he distracted himself with his studies when his thoughts got too hung up on it. 

Michael’s university schedule and his part time job didn't add to making meeting up any easier. But he managed to make time for Gerry. Sometimes their dates ended up being rather short because of that, but they always left Michael feeling like he was floating in a very pleasant way, so he always made time for them.

This time, Michael had invited Gerry to meet him at home and Michael was regretting it, but also very excited about it at the same time. He liked meeting Gerry outside, sitting in the back of some café or strolling through the park with their beverages, but Michael's anxiety about there being other people usually caught up with him sooner or later, adding to him already being a flustered mess when Gerry eyed him with those beautiful brown eyes, warm and welcoming, encouraging Michael to go on with whatever he was babbling about, glinting in amusement when he noticed Michael was stunned into silence at his gaze.

Yes, he could certainly do without the sudden awareness that there are other people around who might see him blushing like that. So when his roommate left to visit family, Michael finally got his courage up to invite Gerry over. He hoped that hasn't seemed suspicious. Gerry had sounded surprised, and hesitated a little, but had agreed in the end, with a nervous smile. Michael had been dreaming about that smile because he didn't know what it meant and it worried him.

Michael was checking his makeup and hair for the third time because he had worked himself into a sweat cleaning the apartment and preparing snacks and he was sure it must be runny by now and, well, his hair was always a lost cause. He tried to tuck the stray strands in to make the half ponytail look neater, but it just made it worse, curls defying gravity simply to spite him. At least the glitter around his eyes was actually still in its place. Michael was nervous about what Gerry might think. He kept his appearance as neutral as possible outside, but Gerry didn't seem like somebody who would mind. Michael held on to that, petting down his skirt before leaving the bathroom to check if the apartment was spotless and tidy for the hundredth time.

Gerry was staring at his phone, waiting for time to pass. He had been early as fuck, had walked around the neighbourhood because he couldn’t very much just stand in front of Michael’s door for over fifteen minutes, somebody might see him, and was still too early when he made it back. How much too early was okay? He didn't want to surprise Michael and freak him out because he wasn't ready or something. Then again, this was Michael. He probably had been ready an hour before their agreed upon time and was driving himself up the wall with nerves. So it probably would be good to be a bit early, right? Gerry left out a frustrated sigh and rang the bell. The door was opened immediately. 

Gerry tried to take the stairs at a normal speed as his brain was still trying to process what the fuck he was thinking he’s doing. He had taken care about not being followed, he had. But still, this was a risk. It was one thing to let whoever - or whatever, rather - find out where he lived, but showing the way to Michael’s apartment was asking for trouble. But now he was already here. Sometimes Gerry felt like part of his brain just didn’t properly function when Michael was the one talking to him.

Michael was peeking out of the door, listening for the familiar steps of Gerry’s boots, debating whether he should step into the hallway or not. Instead, he nearly accidentally closed the door when he saw Gerry approach. He breathed out, slowly, calming himself, and opened the door wider instead. 

“Hi.”, he managed to say when Gerry came to a stop in front of his open door. 

Gerry looked up and was stunned for a moment. Michael usually was all muted colours and hunched shoulders, trying to fade in with his surroundings. Now, he was standing up straight, hair pulled back, not obscuring his face for once, revealing pink glitter around eyes framed by long, dark lashes. His lips were glossy and a light pink, pulled into a sheepish smile. He was wearing a slightly cropped green sweater and a flowy pink skirt passing his knee. He looked gorgeous.

“Ah...is...are you okay?”, Michael whispered after a moment of silence, brushing his hair behind his ear and succeeding in untucking the curls that had somehow finally stayed there. He was getting a little anxious under Gerry’s gaze, unable to read it properly.

“You’re beautiful.”, Gerry blurted out.

Michael looked surprised now, face flushing a bright red, “Oh...oh, okay?”, he didn’t know what to do with that, but the fact that they were still standing at the door was starting to stress him out, so he stepped to the side, “Do you...want to come inside?”

Gerry’s face was dusted pink when he finally understood and he hurried inside, closing the door behind him, “‘M sorry, I just was...surprised.”

“You...don’t mind?”, Michael eyed him somewhat suspiciously.

Gerry shook his head, “Why would I? You look...”, confident was maybe a stretch so Gerry went for the next best he could think of, “Comfortable. And skirts are great. I was really just a bit...taken aback. Why don’t you wear something like this outside?”

Michael twisted a curl around his finger nervously, “Uh, I like to...blend in, outside. Which is...hard enough when you can reach some ceilings standing.”, he chuckled, “But certainly impossible with a more...unconventional style.”

“Fuck conventional style. You look great.”, Gerry grinned.

Michael laughed, “I guess it makes sense you’d say that.”, then his smile went sheepish, eyes shining, “Thank you. Come, I’ll show you the apartment.”, he held out his hand towards Gerry.

Gerry smiled and took it, letting Michael guide him through the immaculate, small but cosy living room. Michael was definitely much more comfortable. Still nervous, but not as skittish, not needing to look around every couple minutes to check if anyone was looking at him. And actually standing at his full height for once. 

Gerry really wasn’t sure if getting this excited about somebody looking properly comfortable was normal, but he could barely stop smiling as Michael showed him around the small apartment. 

They settled back on the couch after Michael made them some hot chocolate and Gerry carried the snacks that were prepared to the coffee table. Michael insisted on Gerry deciding what to watch, and, soon enough, they had made themselves comfortable on the couch. At some point, Michael took Gerry’s free hand, playing with his fingers, and Gerry smiled into his mug. 

“I really like your nails…”, he mumbled, running his fingers over Gerry’s nails.

“Why don’t you paint yours?”

“It would draw attention…”

Gerry raised an eyebrow, “Why don’t you go for something subtle? You could see if it’s really so bad…”

Michael sighed, “I don’t know...did you start with something subtle?”, he added, curious.

Gerry looked at him, blank, “Do I look like I ever did something subtle in my life to you?”

Michael laughed. Gerry grinned, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to Michael’s cheek. Michael blushed, laughter turning into something closer to a giggle. Oh, this was definitely nice. Gerry had noticed that Michael seemed to keep his reactions muted when they meet outside, laughter just a little damped, controlled, compared to their first conversation in the noisy bar. Gerry had thought it had simply been the lack of alcohol, but clearly it had more to do with how tense Michael seemed to feel outside.

As the evening went on, Michael seemed to melt into Gerry’s side, never letting go of Gerry’s hand. However, as it got later, his grip went limb, as he was starting to doze off, head resting against Gerry’s. It looked like a very bad angle and thoroughly uncomfortable, as far as Gerry could tell from where he was sitting.

“You should go to bed, this...doesn’t look very comfortable.”, Gerry mumbled, squeezing the hand that was still holding his gently.

Michael shot up, suddenly, mumbling an apology. Gerry raised an eyebrow, “Woah, it’s fine. I’m just saying you’ll probably regret falling asleep all crumpled up.” Michael was tense, suddenly, wringing long fingers in his lap, avoiding Gerry’s eyes. Gerry drew his eyebrows together, “Michael? Everything okay?”

Michael nodded, too quickly, “Yes...yes, of course I…”, Michael swallowed, looking away, “I...I just...I didn’t change my mind, Gerry.”

Gerry looked at him, confused, “‘Bout what?”

“T-The whole...sex thing.”, Michael twisted his hands into the hem of his sweater.

Gerry looked very confused now, “I...I didn’t assume you did? Did I say something wei-”

“No! No, uh...it’s just...it...it happened before? When...when I asked people over...t...to hang out. I just...I wanted to make that...clear.”, he was looking down, cheeks burning. 

Gerry frowned, “Well, I don’t know what was up with those people, but I’m not looking for loopholes, Michael. It’s fine, okay? There is no reason for me to question it. In fact, it’s not really my place to question it, is it? You're the only one who could do that.”

Michael looked at Gerry again, eyes uncertain, but hopeful. Gerry gave him a reassuring smile and Michael released a shaky breath, relaxing a little, “I...I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“It’s okay, don’t worry. Can’t blame you if apparently past experience has made you extra careful. But like I said, I’m not looking for loopholes or expecting there to be any, Michael. You were pretty straightforward with it and that’s it, in my opinion.”, Gerry shrugged.

"I…", Michael sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Okay. I'll try to remember."

"I'll remind you if you forget, no problem.", Gerry smiled and Michael returned it with his own small one. He looked exhausted, worse than he had when falling asleep on Gerry. Drained.

"You really look like you could do with some sleep."

Michael nodded slowly, stifling a yawn, "I could. Uh...do you...want to stay? If you want you could sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch-"

"Michael, you don't fit on the couch.", Gerry chuckled.

Michael blushed, "I sleep rolled up anyways! Well uh...if you...if you don't mind I...don't think I'd mind you sleeping in the bed with me, either?"

"You don't think…?", Gerry raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I...hm...yeah?", Michael looked a little uncertain and awkward, but strangely hopeful.

"I could also sleep on the couch.", Gerry decided to point out.

"Ah...yes, of course. Is that what you'd rather do?”, he tucked a curl behind his ear, “I just know that the street outside can get quite noisy early in here so...yeah. However you prefer, Gerry."

Gerry thought about it. Michael was still looking at him with that hopeful expression.

"How about we see if you really don't mind me in bed, and if you do you tell me and I come here?", Gerry decided, looking at Michael questioningly. 

Michael thought about it for a moment, and nodded, “Okay.”

They cleaned up the living room, bringing the dishes back into the kitchen, but not bothering with cleaning them for the night. 

Michael turned towards Gerry as they made their way to Michael’s bedroom, "I can give you some pyjama if you want?" Gerry nodded. 

The clothes were obviously too big and Michael smiled widely from the bed, eyes crinkling at the corners, when Gerry shuffled back into his room after changing. Gerry returned with a small grin, slipping into bed next to Michael. They got comfortable and Gerry sighed, suddenly feeling very tired himself. 

He looked at Michael, whose face was close, but not uncomfortably so, "How are you feeling so far?", Gerry mumbled.

"You're warm.", Michael returned, yawning and moving a little closer to Gerry.

Gerry chuckled, "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good. I...I think I'm fine.", Michael mumbled, burying his face in Gerry’s hair.

"You're still thinking?", Gerry teased.

Michael sighed, "Not for long…", and it was barely audible with his tired voice and the fact that his face was still very much pressed into Gerry’s head. Gerry smiled, closing his own eyes.

Gerry was awake when Michael opened his eyes in the morning. He was looking at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thoughts. The sun was playing in his hair and face, specks of light against smooth black hair and tan skin, catching in brown eyes and turning them to gold. Michael had not become much better at not staring over time. If anything, he just kept finding more details that added to the breathtaking picture that was Gerry. 

Like right now, his eyes fell on a mole behind Gerry’s left ear and his eyes lit up, delighted. He brought his hand up to run it through Gerry’s hair, gently, watching the strands run through his thin fingers like water, fascinated by the contrast of the hair against his fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the mole on its way down, featherlight, and Gerry shivered slightly, tilting his head as to look at Michael.

"Good morning. Slept well?", he mumbled, and Michael wondered how it might be to wake up to the pleasant sound of Gerry’s voice every morning. 

He smiled, "Morning. Yes, you? I know the space is a bit tight…"

"Mhm, I've slept in worse places, Michael.", Gerry mumbled, pressing slightly chapped lips against Michael’s forehead. Michael sighed blissfully.

"I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment, actually.", he mumbled, chuckling.

Gerry grinned, gently brushing his fingers through Michael’s hair, "Yeah, I'm not too good at those, I think. But I did sleep well, thank you for asking.” 

"I'm glad to hear that." Michael mumbled, leaning his head against Gerry’s shoulder.

It took another hour before either of them even considered getting up, neither being awfully keen on leaving the comfortable bed or each other’s warmth, but starting to get hungry. Gerry sighed heavily as he finally managed to untangle himself from Michael's long legs. Michael wasn't helping, pouting when Gerry started to move. It looked adorable and Gerry pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before getting up.

Michael hummed before moving to sit up himself, stretching long limbs with a drawn out yawn. Gerry was tying his hair back Michael watched, because it was always worth watching those beautiful fingers run through black hair, movements efficient, but still surprisingly graceful. Or maybe not so surprising. Gerry had artist’s hands and Michael often found himself thinking they'd look good moving a brush over canvas. They looked like they were made for that.

Gerry turned back to him and grinned, and it made for a quite odd picture, him drowning in Michaels pyjamas, too big and too long, pastels somewhat off since Michael was so used to the all black. He wondered if Gerry slept in black, too. Gerry’s grin revealed slightly crooked canines and Michael just couldn't deal with how adorable he looked and beamed back, not even caring that he was caught staring again. If this wasn't worth looking at, then what could possibly be?

Gerry held out his hand and Michael took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. He pressed his lips to Gerry’s hair, "You look so cute, Gerry."

Gerry blinked in confusion for a moment before laughing, "That's one I haven't heard before."

Michael looked offended, "How?"

More laughter, "You do know what I usually wear? I'm not exactly going for cute."

"Well you can't escape what you are, no matter how much leather you put on.", Michael grinned, kissing the scar on Gerry’s eyebrow that had appeared there the last time they met up after Gerry had been gone for a week. Michael quite liked it, despite it looking rather unnerving considering how close the wound must have been to Gerry’s eye.

"Sure." Gerry grinned back, before nodding towards the door, "So...breakfast?"

Michael nodded and they made their way into the kitchen.

Gerry was fairly sure that he had lost his mind now. Telling Michael to come over to his apartment had to be a sign of that. He didn't own a whole lot of things so cleaning up hadn't taken very long. Now he was waiting, standing in the middle of his hallway, staring at the entrance door. The bell rang. He had definitely lost his mind.

Gerry opened the door and was met with Michael's lovely smile, and forgot for a moment that this was a bad idea. And it was very hard to remember when Michael was sitting in his lap after Gerry had shown him around and ordered food, kissing him, hands running through Gerry’s hair reverently.

They were interrupted by the bell, and Michael sighed as he pulled away. Gerry smiled, gently running his knuckles over Michael’s slightly red cheek, “Do you want to get the drinks from the kitchen? I’ll go get the door.”

Michael nodded, getting up from Gerry’s lap, and pulling him to his feet, too. Gerry planted a short kiss on Michael’s cheek before going to the door. 

“Gerry, what do you even eat? I was searching for glasses and your kitchen is kind of...empty.”, Michael said as he sat down on the couch, setting the glasses and the bottle he got from the kitchen on the coffee table next to the takeout.

Gerry turned the TV on before settling back on the couch with his food and looking at Michael, “Honestly? Mostly takeout.”

Michael stared at him, expecting that to be a joke. Gerry simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Gerry, cooking isn’t that difficult or time consuming.”, Michael chided.

Gerry wanted to point out that he often came home at odd times and after a fight or chase or something more unpleasant, but decided not to. Instead he said, “I don’t know, I never really learned much of it and this is just...more convenient.”

Michael looked personally offended, which honestly looked cuter than it had any right to. Gerry gave him an apologetic shrug, unsure what else to add.

“Are you going to be around for a bit this time?”

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving again soon?”

“Oh...yeah, actually. If things go well, it shouldn’t be a week.”, _but things rarely go well_ , he added in thought.

Michael sighed, taking his food and leaning back next to Gerry. He was thinking, biting his lip, and Gerry decided to let him be and eat for now. Michael started picking at his food absentmindedly after a moment.

“Text me when you can meet up again?”, he mumbled.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I...I usually do?”

Michael nodded, “I know. I want to teach you a bit of cooking, if you don’t mind.”

Gerry raised an eyebrow, “But...I mean, if you want?”

Michael smiled at him, “I do.”, before continuing to eat.

It ended up being two week before Gerry was finally back in his apartment, and another three days before they managed to meet up because Michael was stuck doing everything for his group project himself, as usual, while also doing his sick coworker’s shift on top of his own. But eventually, the day was finally there and Michael was standing in front of Gerry’s door again, this time with grocery bags. 

He had been worried when Gerry had gone silent on him for two days. Apparently he had been stuck in the hospital, unconscious, but was already feeling better and would probably leave later. Some kind of fall, as he had said. Michael knew that asking for more details was pointless and, in the end, those wouldn’t really calm Michael down. No, that only started happening when Gerry finally texted him about meeting up again and it would end - hopefully, if Gerry was, as he had said, in one piece - with Gerry opening his door.

He did and Michael released the breath he’d been holding while waiting as he saw that Gerry was, indeed, fine. Gerry gave him a warm smile before his face turned into confusion as he saw Michael’s bags.

“I thought we’d get groceries together?”, Gerry asked, stepping to the side to let Michael in.

Michael shrugged, walking inside and into the kitchen, “I have to pass the store on my way here anyways.” He turned around as Gerry followed him into the kitchen, “I also got you flowers!”, he smiled, carefully pulling out a bouquet of bright yellow carnations out of the bag.

“I...oh.”, Gerry blushed, confused, “I don’t own a vase.”, he added, dumbly.

Michael grinned, “I assumed as much. I got you one.”, he said, pulling out a simple glass vase out of one of the bags.

Gerry stared, “Y-You shouldn’t be buying things for me, Michael, you're just a part-time cashier-.”

"Hush, it's fine. You can give me the money for the groceries, if you want. But these are a gift.", he smiled, delicately tracing the petals with a soft smile, “Your apartment looks a bit bare, I think they’ll make it look more like home.”

Gerry didn't know what to say because Michael looked so very beautiful standing in Gerry's kitchen, looking lovingly at those bright flowers, hair in a messy bun with stray strands flying everywhere. It was nearly painful to look at, a strange ache in Gerry’s chest that made him want to do anything but look away. It wasn't the flowers that were making Gerry feel more at home.

"I...thank you.", he breathed out when Michael looked up at him, wondering about the sudden silence.

Michael now directed that loving smile at Gerry and Gerry wondered if his heart might combust.

"I hope you don't mind that they break with your aesthetic. Black flowers are hard to come by.", Michael grinned, filling the vase and delicately unwrapping the flowers and placing them in there, long fingers adjusting petals and leaves and Gerry suddenly understood why Michael liked watching people's hands so much. It was breathtaking to watch the slight, deliberate movements, more of a caress than anything. What had Gerry even done to deserve holding those hands?

Michael put the flowers on the counter when he was satisfied, "Might look better in the living room, but for now…"

"Michael? Can I kiss you?", Gerry blurted out, overwhelmed by the whole situation.

Michael froze and his smile faded as he started biting his lip. He wasn't looking at Gerry when he answered, "S-Sure…"

Gerry knit his brows, "You're doing it again."

Now Michael looked at him, "Doing...what?"

"Answering my yes or no question with 'if I must'."

Michael looked away again, brushing a curl out of his forehead, “I’m sorry, Gerry, I...sometimes I just don’t feel like it.”

“Then why not answer accordingly?”, Gerry kept his voice calm. This wasn’t an accusation. He was afraid he knew the answer already.

Michael looked back up at him tentatively, “I...I just-I know we haven’t seen each other in a while and…”, Michael was starting to scratch at his arm, “And...and I know you already compromise a lot a-”

“Michael.”, Gerry interrupted. There it was. “Michael, it’s fine. That’s why I ask you. So you can tell me no if you're not feeling it.”

Michael was looking at him with that uncertain expression again, like he was trying very hard to believe, but also too afraid to do so. 

Gerry smiled, “Michael, there’s not much point in kissing if one of the parties isn’t even enjoying themselves, okay? It’s fine.”, his smile pulled into more of a grin then, “And as far as I know cooking doesn’t require a whole lot of kissing, so we should be fine, right?”

Michael had that surprised, awed expression in his eyes he often got when Gerry was saying something perfectly reasonable to himself, but seemingly mindblowing to Michael. His mouth quirked up into a soft smile, "I...o-okay."

Gerry went to help him unpack the groceries, “So, do tell me about the group project, the last message you sent about it was a bit all over the place…”

Michael sighed, putting away some eggs, “Oh, yes, I was...it was a mess, see…”

They were sitting on Gerry’s couch later, blissfully silent after their meal, empty plates stacked on the coffeetable. Gerry felt warm and comfortable, and he wasn’t sure how much of that had been the food.

“That was really good.”, Gerry sighed, looking at Michael.

Michael smiled, “See? And it wasn’t that much effort, was it?”

“I guess not.”, Gerry chuckled, “I might try making this by myself…”

Michael’s smile widened, “Do that! If you struggle, you can always text me. And we can try making something else the next time, maybe.”

Gerry nodded, “Sounds like a good idea.”, he yawned, “Hm...should I take the couch today, Michael?”

Michael looked confused, “I...what?”

Gerry shrugged, “In case you don’t feel like sharing the bed today, I don’t know...you seem more comfortable without me getting too close.”

Michael blushed, “Oh...I...yeah, but I don’t think it’s necessary to go that far? I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed!”

“I slept many a good night on this couch, Michael, if that’s your concern.”, Gerry raised an eyebrow.

“No, I mean…”, Michael sighed, “I think it’s okay.”

Gerry watched him for a moment, trying to determine whether Michael was forcing himself into doing things just to not be an inconvenience. He at least didn’t look like it. Gerry sighed, getting up and stretching, “Tell me if it turns out not to be, then, yeah?”

Michael nodded seriously, and Gerry brought the dishes into the kitchen before going into his bedroom to change for the night.

“I put what you wore last time in the bathroom for you.”, he managed to remember to say to Michael before he was out of earshot. He heard a muffled ‘okay’ as he closed the door behind him.

“Everything alright?”, Gerry mumbled after they had settled into bed for a couple minutes.

Michael yawned, “Yes...yes, I’m fine.”

Gerry smiled, “Goodnight, then. Wake me if anything’s up.”

“Okay. Sleep well, Gerry.”, Michal whispered, burying his face into his pillow.

“Thanks, you, too.”, Gerry mumbled, closing his eyes.

Gerry had his back turned to Michael in the morning so that Michael opened his eyes to the eye on the back of his neck, making him jump slightly in surprise before he realised what he was looking at. Gerry had his head resting on his arm, hair brushed up and away from his neck. He seemed to sleep like that a lot. Maybe he got hot with his hair down otherwise.

Michael was struck by how smooth his skin looked. There was a small scar disappearing into his hair, and of course the tattoo, but otherwise it looked wonderfully soft. Michael wanted to kiss it. He bit his lip. He knew Gerry was awake, but Michael would understand if he wouldn’t want Michael too close after Michael had kept him at a distance just yesterday.

"Gerry?", he whispered nonetheless, because Gerry never got upset at him asking. Well, hadn’t until now.

"Hm?", Gerry grumbled turning around slightly.

Michael hesitated, "Would...would you mind if I kissed your neck?"

Gerry turned his head back at that, "No."

Michael bit his lip before he carefully leaned closer, pressing his lips to the back of Gerry's neck, a butterfly kiss against the tender skin there.

"Was that okay?", Michael mumbled.

"Yeah.", Gerry hummed.

Michael did it again, hand running along Gerry's shoulder and down his arm. Gerry made a noise that sounded like a purr. Michael smiled, pleasantly surprised.

“Feel free to continue…”, Gerry mumbled, lowering his head, and Michael watched intently as more skin was exposed where the collar of his shirt got pulled down. Michael traced it with his fingertips, uncertain.

“Are...are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be, Michael? It felt nice…”, Gerry turned his head a bit, looking at Michael out of the corner of his eyes.

Only that was enough to make Michael blush, gaze as intense as it was beautiful. "Uh...I...I just thought because...well, it's...it's not going anywhere? I-in case you'd rather...not at all, then. B-Because I...I still do-"

"Michael", Gerry sighed, but instead of the annoyance Michael was expecting he sounded somewhat fond. He turned around completely then, propping himself up on his elbow. "Listen to me. So, first of all, I'm not waiting on changes so you don't have to, either. It sounds extra stressful and you have enough stress.", he smiled gently brushing Michael's curls out of his face. He pressed his lips to Michael's forehead and continued, "And secondly, do you know when I'm ever going to even consider questioning your motives?"

Michael looked taken aback, eyes big and uncertain, "I...n-no?"

"When you tell me, clearly, to my face, that I should because you are having doubts yourself. Before that, Michael, you could literally kiss every inch of my body if you'd want and it would still not make me question your identity, okay?"

Michael’s eyes were still wide, but now he looked like he was close to tears. He swallowed, nodding carefully, because he wasn’t sure his voice would work right now. It rarely did when Gerry was looking at him like that, like Michael was worthy of his undivided attention. Much less when he was saying things like that, things Michael sometimes allowed himself to dream of hearing from anyone, really, but never really let himself hope. He should keep expectations realistic. But Gerry kept breaking down all of what Michael considered realistic. Sometimes, it was a lot to take in.

Gerry gave him a moment to calm down before asking, "Can I kiss you, Michael?"

Another nod, and Gerry bent down to draw him into a sweet, tender kiss. Michael returned it, cradling Gerry’s face. They pulled away after a moment, Gerry caressing Michael cheek with the back of his hand. Michael looked more relaxed now, though Gerry was sure part of him was still freaking out. He was starting to be sure part of Michael was always freaking out about something. Gerry sighed as Michael took his hand, pressing a kiss to its palm. Gerry smiled.

"Gerry?", Michael whispered after another moment. His heart was racing, and he was already regretting opening his mouth.

Gerry looked back into his eyes, "Yes?"

Michael’s face was heating up, "Do you...uh, want to kiss my neck?", he mumbled, looking away in a feeble attempt to hide his blush. 

"Do you want me to?", Gerry smiled.

Michael nodded, "O-only if you want, I...I understand if you'd rather not, I-if it gets too much a-and-"

Gerry raised an eyebrow, "Too much? For me?"

Michael tentatively looked back at him, "Y-yes? I...getting carried away?"

Gerry frowned. He disliked the certainty in Michaels voice as he said that. "Did...that happen before?"

Michael looked away again. Another nod, this one hesitant. 

Gerry sighed, "Michael, look at me, please.", he looked into Michael’s eyes when Michael did bring himself to look back at Gerry, "How about I tell you if it gets too much for me and you tell me if you’re getting uncomfortable? Does that sound good?”

Michael took a moment before answering, "Yes."

"Good.”, Gerry smiled, caressing his cheek. “Can I kiss you again?”

Michael nodded, a shy smile appearing back on his lips. Gerry returned the smile before closing in, pressing their lips together. Michael wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

When they pulled away, Gerry ran a finger down Michael’s neck, “Do you still want me to kiss your neck?”

Michael nodded, “Yes.”

Gerry kissed his chin before pressing his lips to Michael’s neck, tentatively. He looked up at Michael, “Okay?”

Michael looked at him and nodded, “Yes. It...it’s nice.”, he smiled.

Gerry smiled, continuing to kiss Michael’s neck, caressing his jaw and cheek with his fingers. Michael sighed, leaning into the touch and relaxing into it, eyes fluttering close.

That wasn’t the last of Michael’s insecurities, of course, but he did try to remind himself of that morning when he felt like he might choke on his anxieties again. He wanted to trust Gerry because Gerry had no reason to lie about being fine. He reminded himself of that.

So did Gerry. Gerry was happy when he was with him. It didn’t seem to make much of a difference to him if that time was spent curled up on the couch or in bed, Michael’s fingers running down his back reverently, lips kissing a trail from Gerry’s shoulder to his ear, or whether it was spent talking with Michael, or trying to follow his instructions he was giving Gerry during one of their cooking lessons, laughter bubbling out of him - still the loveliest sound Gerry ever heard - at Gerry’s mumbled complaints when he managed to fuck up what had sounded to be pretty straightforward. 

During neither situation did Gerry feel bothered by Michael’s lack of sexual interest. Gerry was much more concerned with the fact that Michael’s freckles were starting to fade as the days grew shorter, and Gerry hadn’t gotten to count them all. And he reminded Michael of that, too. The blush rising into Michael’s cheek at that was always beautiful to look at.

But moments in which Michael seemed to be suffocating on his worries seemed to be getting less frequent in general. Despite Michael always apologising for forcing Gerry to have the same conversation, it was definitely becoming more rare as time passed. 

And Gerry didn’t mind, anyways. He really rather had Michael tell him about what was gnawing at him than having Michael sit in it, growing more and more anxious and losing sleep. It was much easier to try to soothe those anxieties when Michael told him what exactly they were, even if it often came down to the same. And it seemed to help Michael, too, to be able to put whatever was bothering him into words.

Michael sometimes still looked at Gerry nervously when he thought something he'd said might give incentive to confront him about whether he was actually sure about his identity. Which was a ridiculous thought to Gerry, since Michael talked in the same tone about people he considered beautiful than he did about a perfectly organised bookshelf. One time, Gerry told him that.

"Oh…", Michael had blushed a pretty red, "I like you more than a well organised bookshelf, Gerry!", hed said quickly, shuffling closer on the couch to wrap his arms around Gerry.

Gerry had laughed, "That's high praise coming from a future librarian. And not something I was worried about, really.”, he added, because part of him feared Michael might think that if he didn’t. He pulled Michael closer, caressing his arm, “I think you spend more time looking at me than at any heat bookshelf I've seen you pass, actually.”, he grinned at Michael, “Which is interesting considering it should take you longer to check if it really is organised to your taste than to look at somebody you've been seeing somewhat regularly for...what? Half a year now?"

"A bit longer, I think.", Michael said, chuckling, before looking at Gerry with a soft smile, “And I never know when I’ll actually see you again, Gerry. Or if you’re not going to be sprouting more than just a black eye and some cuts the next time. Or...if you’re going to be back at all.”, the smile vanished from his lips and he sighed, leaning his forehead against Gerry’s shoulder, “I don’t want to end up regretting not having spent enough time looking at you while I could.”

Gerry went silent, trying to understand what he had just heard. He cleared his throat before mumbling, “Wow, that...that’s dark.”

Michael looked back at his face, “Am I wrong? Is it a guarantee that you will come back from your work every time?”

And his eyes looked like he knew the answer already and it made Gerry’s chest ache, “No.”, he managed. Michael smiled, a small and sad thing, resigned. “I’m...I’m sorry.”, Gerry tried, caressing his cheek, because he didn’t want Michael to look like that, but he couldn’t do much to change that expression. Even the apology sounded somewhat hollow, despite Gerry genuinely meaning it. Michael deserved better than this.

Michael took his hand and squeezed it, trying for a happier smile, “It’s okay, Gerry. It’s...it’s not too different from how I usually approach my acquaintances, especially the ones I’d like to last. Like every time we meet might be the last time.”, Michal blushed at the realisation that he was sounding ridiculously dramatic again, which wasn’t at all how he meant it. He just was aware that people usually lost interest in him and just stopped being around. Or died. Or disappeared. It was fine. Michael was used to it.

Gerry was frowning at him, but there was a hint of humour in his voice when he spoke again, “Oh, christ, Michael. Starting to think you should be the one wearing all black.”

Michael grinned, “Oh, I used to! When I was a little younger.”

“Oh?”, Gerry grinned, eyes amused and curious, “I need to see that.”

“I’m afraid no photos exist of that time.”, Michael said, petting Gerry’s cheek lovingly.

Gerry laughed, “Well, if you won’t show me, I’ll just have to make you reconnect with that style again.”

Michael chuckled, tucking a stray black strand of hair behind Gerry's ear, “Maybe you should, one day.”

  
  


"Gerry, i don't understand how you never get cold arms.", Michael whined, rubbing his bare arms. Gerry’s bathroom was cold, but Gerry was, as usual, wearing something sleeveless, seemingly unbothered by the chill as he applied makeup to Michael’s face.

"And I don't understand how you can wear cardigans all year long, Michael.", Gerry grinned, "Hold still now, I'm nearly done.", he mumbled, gently tilting Michael's head back a little further for the finishing touches on his lips.

Michael's eyes fluttered close, throwing dark shadow over his pale cheeks and Gerry really wanted to kiss him but the lipstick wasn't dry yet.

"Done.", he exclaimed, stepping away from Michael, whose eyes opened again, meeting Gerry's, uncertain and questioning.

Gerry nodded towards the mirror, "You look great." He grinned.

Michael looked sceptical and got up to look at himself, ducking his head a little bit as he always had to with Gerry's bathroom mirror. Even when Michael had preferred black for his wardrobe, he never experimented much with makeup then. And while Gerry's black rimmed eyes, black eyeshadow and occasionally black lips looked quite striking on him, Michael didn't think it would work on himself. He was wrong. The contrast was starker than on Gerry's tan skin, and maybe it looked a little odd with the freckles, but it certainly worked. Michael particularly liked the glittery eyeshadow. 

"You should wear this yourself more.", he mumbled, angling his face towards the light to watch the sparkle and grinning.

Gerry laughed, "I thought you'd like that one. Don't you want to check out the whole picture?"

Michael hesitated before nodding and turning his back to the mirror to follow Gerry out of the bathroom. They went to Gerry's room, where the only full body mirror in the apartment was.

"The skirt is still too short.", Michael mumbled on their way, disliking the feeling of the air against his knees as he walked.

"Your legs are just long. I buy my clothes to fit _me_ , so of course they'd be a bit short on you.", he laughed and Michael sighed, smiling at the sound. 

When they reached the bedroom, Gerry nodded for him to go to the mirror, grinning widely. Michael couldn't remember ever seeing him so excited. It was heartwarming, and he smiled back before stepping in front of the mirror.

He felt Gerry's gaze, expecting, as he took in his own reflection. It wasn't that Michael never wore black anymore, but he usually added some sort of colour, knowing that all black would draw as much attention as when he'd go outside with his indoor clothes. It didn't look bad, though. 

The skirt was definitely shorter than he was comfortable with, the tanktop tighter than it was on Gerry, even though Gerry was quite a bit more buff than Michael. It also looked cropped on him. The skin peeking out between it and the waistband of the skirt was nearly blindingly pale in the midst of all the black. Michael checked one more time if the black nail polish was dry and then shoved his hands into the skirt pockets. It really looked odd. Like himself, still, very much, pale skin, blond curls down his back - he needed a haircut, he noted - and freckled face, eyes uncertain as always. But it also looked very much unlike himself. He missed colour. 

"I look pale.", he stated after turning around a couple times, looking at himself in different angles.

"You are.", Gerry sighed, walking up to him and wrapping his arms around him. He leaned his head against Michael's arm, looking into the mirror, "You look striking."

Michael chuckled, taking one hand out of his pocket to run through Gerry's smooth hair. "I think this looks better on you."

Gerry hummed, "Want to change?"

Michael looked at his reflection again, "No, it's fine for now. Tonight."

Gerry nodded.

"But I will put my cardigan back on, Gerry, my arms are freezing.", he grinned.

Gerry laughed, rubbing Michael’s arms. They were cold, "I'm sure it'll bring the outfit together.", he pressed a short kiss to Michael's jaw. "I'll be in the kitchen, cake should be cool by now. Tea or cocoa?"

"Tea.", Michael smiled. He shivered when Gerry stepped away and out of the room, taking his warmth with him.

Gerry put on the kettle in the kitchen, cutting the cake Michael had baked before. He had just brought all into the living room, placing the mugs and plates with cake unto the coffee table, when Michael emerged again, this time wearing a chocolate brown cardigan that certainly clashed with the rest of the clothes but looked very much like Michael. Gerry chuckled and Michael smiled a little awkwardly before sitting down on the couch next to Gerry. His eyes fell on the mugs and plates, but also on the vase of sad, dry flowers.

"Gerry, I've told you before that you should really throw those away.", he laughed. Michael had been surprised when he had seen the wilted flowers weeks after he had brought them, still in their vase on the coffeetable. He had assumed Gerry had simply been too lazy to throw them away or forgotten to do so.

"I like them.", he said now, as he had the other times Michael had pointed them out to him,

Michael looked at him, "They're dead."

Gerry shrugged. He just couldn't bring himself to throw them away. Every time he looked at them he thought about Michael in his kitchen, soft smile and wild hair, delicate fingers caressing the soft petals of the flowers, and Gerry liked thinking about that every time he glanced at his coffee table.

“I’ll get you new ones.”

“You better get another vase, too, then, these are staying.”, Gerry laughed, taking one of the plates and starting to eat the cake. Michael shook his head, but smiled, taking one of the mugs.

Michael was approaching the end of his studies and was getting busier, so they didn’t see each other quite as much. Gerry would occasionally drag him out of his room when he felt like Michael hadn’t left it in too long, take him on a short walk and buy him something that wasn’t coffee, because Michael was drinking too much of that, somehow putting him more on edge than he usually was. On some of those instances Michael had been concerningly silent, too tired to react to what Gerry was saying with more than just a small smile. Michael assured him he was taking care, but they clearly hat varying definitions of what that meant.

Then again, Gerry didn’t really have the moral high ground in this either. He’d broken two ribs on his last Leitner hunt and still winced when he moved a bit too quickly. Even half-asleep, that always drew worried glances from Michael.

Before final exams and assignments really started, however, Michael invited Gerry over again. _To relax before things got really stressful_ , he had said, looking like he hadn’t slept in at least a week. Gerry was starting to worry about what ‘really stressful’ meant to Michael. They baked muffins - Gerry was slowly turning into less of a liability in the kitchen - and Michael’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. Gerry’s presence always calmed him, and combining them with the comforting motions of baking was wonderful.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been free much.”, he mumbled as he put the muffin tray in the oven and turned around to see Gerry cleaning the dishes.

Gerry raised an eyebrow, “Michael, did you listen to your own sentence? That’s a weird thing to apologise for. I know it’s not your fault. It’s okay. I’m glad today worked out.” He smiled and dried off his hands.

Michael sighed, “I mean, it is. If I wouldn’t need so long to feel like I’ve studied enough-”

“Michael, you never feel like you’ve done enough. While I’d love for that to be different, it’s more because you clearly need a break more than the fact that our meetings have become a bit rarer.”, he tried for a grin, “It’s actually nice to not be the reason for that for once.”

Michael pouted at him, before sighing, “Fine.”, he walked over, putting his arms around Gerry and pulling him close, “Do you feel better from your last...accident?”

Gerry nodded, leaning into Michael’s hug. Every time he got hurt during one of his jobs Gerry became more aware of the fact that it was probably only a matter of time until Michael would be dragged into it, too. Gerry was always careful. But he knew that could only really do so much. He buried his face in Michael’s yellow sweater and breathed in. He didn’t want to think about that, now.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to tell me something, by the way?”, Gerry mumbled instead, trying to steer the conversation somewhere he wouldn’t have to be thinking of possibly being responsible for Michael’s death.

Michael froze, and Gerry felt a little bad for being pushy. Michael never forgot something like that, but he often needed time to find the courage to actually say whatever it was he wanted to talk about. 

Gerry looked up at him, “Sorry, doesn’t have to be now, of course.”

Michael sighed, smiling down at him, “When the muffins are done.”, he wrapped a black strand of hair around his finger, watching it slide right off it as soon as he released the lock, “What have you been up to besides getting bruised and battered? Any new exciting books you came across?”

Gerry had to remind himself that Michael did not mean the ones he burned, but the ones he read, and let out a nervous breath, forcing his thoughts away from burning pages and Michael suffering, to the normal books he liked to read when he had the time. It became easier as he started talking, telling Michael of how he had passed his time lately as Michael started cleaning the kitchen, asking for details or adding something of his own occasionally until Gerry relaxed. 

Gerry wasn’t used to talking a whole lot, but Michael still seemed to know how to make him when he felt Gerry’s thoughts were getting upsetting. Gerry was grateful for it, because he knew that when he got into a bad mood, he was a pain to deal with. Michael knew that, of course, it had happened once or twice, mostly in the beginning, before Michael had found ways to prevent Gerry from shutting down completely or getting snappy. They usually managed, now, and it was about when Gerry was really running out of things to say when Michael got the muffins out of the oven. He put a couple on a plate, hissing as they burned his fingers. Gerry grabbed to mugs of tea and followed as Michael made his way to his room.

They sat down on Michael’s bed, and Michael sighed, as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He mumbled, “My roommate’s moving out.”

Gerry looked at him, surprised, “Oh? After exams?”

Michael nodded.

“What about you?”, Gerry asked because he knew Michael wasn’t good with new people and would probably avoid finding a new roommate, if he could. He just wasn’t sure if Michael was making enough money to afford something passable by himself.

Michael was starting to bite his lip, wringing his hands in his lap and avoiding Gerry’s eyes. Gerry knit his brows after that went on for a moment, Michael clearly wanting to say something but was struggling to do so.

“Michael?”, he asked carefully.

“Uh…”, Michael turned around, so he was looking at Gerry, “I was wondering...wanted to ask...i-if you want to consider? Maybe? Y-You don’t have to, I...I can try to...to find somebody else but...I...I think I would like you to move in, if you’d...if you’d want.”, his cheeks were burning by the end of the sentence, and Gerry was impressed that he managed to not give into the urge of looking away again, eyes big and nervous, as he started scratching at his arm.

Gerry felt his own face heating up as the words caught up with him, “O-Oh...oh.”, was all he managed, licking his lips and rubbing the back of his neck. 

That wasn’t what he had expected. At all. Ever, really. As much as he loved having Michael over or being here, as much as he enjoyed the domesticity their dates had taken on, Gerry had never allowed himself to dream of it as a permanent arrangement. Too many factors spoke against that. Too many spoke of early death for the both of them if Michael kept sticking around. But would it even make such a difference if they moved into the same place? Maybe it would even be better. Gerry would be there if something would come for Michael. 

Michael was regretting his question, eyes desperate as he tried to take it back, “Y-You don’t have to! I...I know it’s a bit of a short notice and...and I know your apartment is nice and probably in a better location than this a-and of course, you-”

“No, Michael, no, that...that’s not it, I…”, Gerry swallowed, “I...I think I’d like that.”

Michael stared at him, clearly expecting him to be joking. Gerry gave him a small, shy smile.

“I...Are you...sure?”, Michael asked, tentatively.

Gerry nodded, “Yes. I...I am.”

Michael’s face lit up and he threw his arms around Gerry’s neck, hugging him close and burying his face in Gerry’s hair, letting out a relieved sigh. Gerry chuckled, returning the hug and running his hand through Michael’s hair. 

Michael suddenly froze again, at that, pulling away a little, “I-If you...if you change your mind, Gerry, you-”

Gerry sighed, pulling him back and nuzzling his shoulder, “I’ll tell you. But for now...I think it’d be nice.”

Michael allowed himself to relax a little, combing through Gerry’s hair, mind already trying to imagine how it would be to be able to do this more often if Gerry really did move in, but also trying to not think about that in case Gerry ended up changing his mind, which would be understandable, really, but if he _didn’t_ Michael could see him every morning, or most, the bleary eyes and messy hair and sleepy smile, and Michael felt like he might combust with warmth and excitement at that.

“Can I try a muffin?”, Gerry mumbled after a moment.

Michael laughed, letting go of him, “Yes, of course. I hope they’re to your liking!”, he said, taking the plate and holding it out to Gerry.

Gerry smiled, taking one and biting into it, leaning his head against Michael’s arm. They were good, as always. Michael took one for himself, settling against Gerry with his tea and sighing blissfully. He felt much better now that he had finally asked. And Gerry’s answer had certainly made worth all the time it had took him to work up the courage to do so.

It was evening and the muffins were gone, the mugs empty, and they were now laying on Michael's bed and Michael was stressing out about his final assignments and about what he would do after he was done with university . Gerry listened patiently, playing with a particularly tight corkscrew curl that was laying on the pillow, making small, reassuring noises occasionally. He knew it didn't help to tell Michael things would be alright, but he still liked to do it. He hoped Michael would remember when he was particularly down about everything.

After a while, Michael fell silent, exhausted and defeated, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh and throwing a long arm over his eyes. Gerry noted that his nail polish was still immaculate despite a week having passed since Gerry painted them for Michael. It had taken a lot of convincing, but eventually Michael agreed to try it. He had chosen a barely noticeable light pink and, as far as Gerry could tell, hadn’t had any unwanted attention because of it. Gerry was glad about that since Michael seemed very happy with how they had turned out. Gerry wanted him to have something that made him happy. Gerry traced Michael's thumb nail delicately.

"Have you found something?", Gerry asked curiously, after the silence had stretched on for a bit.

"Hm…?", Michael let his arm move up, so he could look up at Gerry, who was still propping himself up on his elbow beside him.

"You mentioned you also started looking into possible jobs so you're not stuck in limbo after you graduate-"

" _If_ I graduate."

Gerry sighed. Of course he would graduate. But Michael didn't want to hear about that, "If you graduate. I was wondering if anything caught your eye?"

Michael dropped his arm further back, letting it rest on his hair on the pillow, "Hm...actually, yes. I saw that...uhm...the Magnus Institute was hiring.", he said it quickly, in hope Gerry wouldn't hear because he didn't want Gerry to know he was silly enough to be interested in such an institution.

Gerry froze and Michael was regretting speaking, was about to play it off as a joke, but when he saw Gerry’s expression it died on his lips. Gerry didn't look annoyed at Michael being ridiculous, he looked shocked, terrified even.

"No.", he said when Michael was about to ask if everything was okay and his voice was off, shaky.

Michael sat up, eyeing him, worried, "Gerry? What..what is it?", he asked, touching Gerry’s cheek gently with his fingertips.

Gerry took in s shaky breath, "My...parents. They worked for the Institute."

Michael's eyes went wide. Gerry never talked about his family. He only vaguely mentioned that his father died before he could remember him, and that he grew up with his mother. The way Gerry said the word mother made Michael assume that it hadn't been a good experience and he didn't pry. Gerry clearly didn't want to talk about it.

"Oh...okay? And...was it-"

"Please don't go there, Michael. It's...its not good. They...I…", Gerry was trying, desperately, to come up with some way of explaining without actually explaining all the fears and everything else. 

Michael was watching him helplessly, wanting to make this easier for him, but not knowing what ‘this’ even was. And Gerry couldn't take that look. Michael deserved knowing, deserved Gerry being honest. But Gerry was afraid of what that might do. Michael might hate him by the end. He couldn't unknow if Gerry told him and then he was stuck with a reality far scarier than the one that already freaked him out. Gerry was afraid his eyes might lose their shine in the face of the truth.

"Michael, do you really want to know what my work is?", he ended up asking.

Michael knit his brows, confused, "You...do you work for the Institute?" That didn't make any sense. Michael knew how paper cuts looked, and Gerry certainly came away from work with much worse and deeper injuries than one should get from working in a place like that.

Gerry laughed, but it was short and humourless, "Hell no. But...well, we deal with the same."

"What?", Michael blinked, confused, because Gerry was implying his job had something to do with the paranormal and Michael didn't think Gerry was one to believe in such things. Michael never assumed anyone in their right mind was, of course. Maybe Gerry was referring to something else.

Gerry took a deep breath. And then he told Michael about everything. He watched Michael nervously, unable to imagine what his reaction could be. Gerry never thought he’d ever tell anyone. Michael’s face went through a variety of expressions, confusion, disbelieve, worry, fear, but he listened, nodding for Gerry to go on when latter asked whether he should stop. 

Silence stretched on when Gerry finished.

“Should...should I go? Do you need space?”, Gerry asked eventually, because Michael’s face had taken on a worrying blank expression.

He snapped out of it at that, looking at Gerry, “What? No! I...I’m sorry, I was just...I was just thinking.”, he ran a hand through his hair, “I...things...might make more sense now…”

“Things?”, Gerry asked, surprised.

Michael looked at him, uncertain. “If...if you don’t mind, I’d rather tell you some other time. I need...to think. And I’m feeling quite tired by now.”

Gerry nodded, confused about what Michael could possibly mean. But he didn’t push. “Do you want me to go? So you can think?”, he asked instead.

Michael shook his head, “No, I think I’d like to let myself sleep in tomorrow for the last time.”, he blushed, “That...That’s always a lot nicer with you.”

Gerry smiled, still a bit shaken by the relative muted reaction of Michael to everything, “Alright. I’ll go change, then, okay?”

Michael nodded, pressing a kiss to Gerry’s cheek, before Gerry got up and left with what had by now become his designated pyjamas. Michael always kept them washed and folded in the same place in his closet, loving watching Gerry bury his nose in the soft fabric, taking in the scent. 

He got up himself after Gerry had left for the bathroom, changing into his own sleeping clothes before bringing the dishes into the kitchen. His mind was still whirring from what Gerry had told him, but he knew he was too tired to really process it now. He hoped his exhaustion would win over his racing thoughts so he could sleep tonight. 

They were curled up in Michael’s bed little later, Michael’s head tucked under Gerry’s chin, Gerry’s hand resting on his back. Neither of them was sleeping, but both were trying to shut down their thoughts so sleep could finally come. Neither of them was very successful with that.

It was Gerry who broke the comfortable silence, fingers tracing patterns on Michael’s back, "Michael?"

"Hm?", came the mumbled answer. Michael definitely sounded like he needed to sleep. Gerry wished he knew how to help.

"You know...you know monsters could find you right? I mean...more...possible. B-Because of me. They...they might follow.", Gerry asked instead, trying to calm his own worries. Maybe it would help calm Michael’s, too.

Michael pressed his face into his chest with a mumbled ‘yes’ for an answer. 

Gerry bit his lip, "And...you're okay with that?"

Now Michael pulled away a bit, and Gerry let go of him, in case he wanted more space. Michael stayed close, but looked up at Gerry, "Gerry did you just ask me whether I'm okay with possibly being hunted by monsters?", he said, voice a bit clearer now, and a little amused.

Gerry blushed, hoping the relative darkness in the room would hide it. Of course it was a silly question. Who would be okay with that? Gerry just hadn’t been sure if Michael had thought about that in his tired state. He hadn’t said anything about it, after all. "Well...yes? If you'd rather change your mind about moving in...or-or even dating...I...it's...I’d get it, I mean."

Now Michael sighed and moved so his head was laying next to Gerry’s, eyes locking with Gerry’s, "Gerry, this is worth possible death by the paranormal to me, okay?”, he brushed Gerry’s hair behind his ear, “I...You're home, Gerry. You make me feel like I can be myself.”, Michael let out an awkward chuckle, cheeks red, before he grinned at Gerry, “Fuck possible monster attacks, I've dreamed of this for all my life and I will not let that cut it short."

Gerry looked at him, speechless, the light seeping in from the window illuminating Michael’s eyes, brimming with defiant happiness and affection, and Gerry didn’t know what he could possibly say to somebody who looked at him like this at the prospect of the monsters that were always a constant in Gerry’s life catching up with him. 

"You're a strange one", Gerry finally managed, because he wanted to say something, wanted to put the overwhelming awe he was feeling into some shape or form, into words.

Michael chuckled, taking Gerry’s hand under the covers and squeezing it, "Says the one who just told me his job is hunting evil magical books." His grin was wide and fond.

Gerry returned it, "Fair.", he said, squeezing back. 

Michael yawned, shuffling closer again, “Let’s sleep…”

“Yeah, sounds good.”, Gerry mumbled, pressing him close and hiding his face in soft curls. 

Soon, they were both fast asleep.


End file.
